


Wander

by InkFlavored



Series: PuzzleJune 2019 [3]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dub names, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, it's mostly comfort tbh, so enjoy that lmao, yami is pretty dense and can't pick up on Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 16:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkFlavored/pseuds/InkFlavored
Summary: After thousands of years trapped in the Puzzle, Yami has learned one thing: alone time is not always relaxing.PuzzleJune2019 (Week 2, Day 11: Alone)





	Wander

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i said i was only participating weekly? i lied
> 
> i've had this thing sitting in my drafts for MONTHS so i figured: why not post it now? enjoy!

There were times when Yami did not share his partner’s body. Boundaries, times when they agreed to separate, at least for a little while. When Yugi slept, when he was in school, when he was working at his grandfather’s shop, they remained apart, unless it was an emergency or Yugi asked him to take over momentarily. The Pharaoh happily complied – after all, he _was_ the one intruding in his partner’s body. Yugi would never let him say it – had even denied its truth when the spirit had brought it up – and Yami himself wasn’t sure if he believed it, or if he would let himself believe it. In any case, the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle had plenty of time to himself.

He spent most of it thinking. Wandering his half of Yugi’s mind, his Soul Room, to try and find answers to his eternal questions, even the most basic of which he had not answered.   _Who am I? Where did I come from? How did I get here?_ Even the name he claimed was his – Yami – was a question. It was a half-remembered song, the words on his tongue just familiar enough to be recognized as truth, but strange enough to keep him questioning its validity. _Who did this name belong to?_ he wondered, many times. _Was it ever truly mine?_

During the hours Yugi and Yami spent apart, the spirit spent it wandering in his endless labyrinth, opening doors, following paths, finding only answers that led to more questions. His mind was unpredictable, even to him, and he often discovered dead ends, endless pits, swinging halls of knives. He often felt as if he was spiraling into madness, eternally wandering corridors, searching for a treasure that might not exist.

That was what frightened Yami the most. Never learning, always looking, but finding nothing. Becoming a mystery even to himself – even to _Yugi,_ his partner, the one who knew him as well as he knew himself, if not better. An endlessly wandering ghost of centuries long dead, searching for answers that would never come to him. A forgotten memory of five-thousand years, a relic of the past, as ancient as the Puzzle he was trapped in.

In these moments, in his despair, he found it comforting to tear himself from his self-made prison, and seek questions that he _could_ answer. Usually this meant existing as a spirit that only Yugi could see, asking questions about the strange new technologies around him, or taking a few minutes to breathe with real lungs again – with Yugi’s permission, of course. He needed to see things around him and remember that the world was not always so confusing – he had a purpose, he had friends, he had a _partner_.

When Yami became a spirit as Yugi slept, he had to take special care not to wake him (he wouldn’t awaken his partner from resting, not unless his life was in danger). Sometimes he would wander the house, careful not to stray too far from the Puzzle. Other times, he reviewed the deck he and Yugi shared, noting weaknesses and developing strategies to counter them. And other times, times when he felt like he was driving himself mad, he would simply watch Yugi sleep, and try to remember the feeling. Of sleeping. Of dreaming. It would prove to him that he was human. Or had once _been_ human.

Sometimes, rare times, times when his despair caused him to be careless and awaken his partner, Yugi would find him staring out the window at the stars, the moon, and the countless living lights of Domino City. Groggily, Yugi would ask if Yami was alright. Softly, almost apologetically, the spirit would assure him that nothing was amiss. _Go back to sleep, Partner_ , he often said. _I am fine._

Yugi never returned to sleep without a fight, however. Not until the Pharaoh spoke his mind. Not until he voiced his troubles, and Yugi was there to assure him that answers _did_ exist, that they _would_ discover his past, and all his worries would be put to rest. Yami was eternally grateful for those moments.

Truthfully, Yugi calmed the spirit in a way he could not explain. Even in his worst, most desperate moments, the boy with whom he shared a mind always had something to offer to soothe him. Whether it was their quiet conversations in the night, the simple act of letting Yami take over and go for a walk around town, or asking questions while Yugi was in class, reading the responses squeezed into the margins of his notebook, Yugi always had his own way to help him. It was one of the few comforts Yami could reliably count on, and he cherished it deeply. He cherished his partner, and their bond.

And as deeply as he cherished Yugi, that same feeling frightened him almost as much as being clueless for eternity. No…perhaps it frightened him more.

It was something he had been considering more and more frequently, as the dangers around Yami and his partner continued to grow. He knew that their bond made them strong, but he was not a fool; he also knew that it presented a very glaring weakness. And it was impossible to correct.

The spirit’s wandering in his Soul Room often led him to memories – recent memories, of Yugi, Joey, Téa, Tristan, and all of the people he had grown to count as his friends. He would sit with these memories, perhaps longer than he should have, perhaps not long enough. He would bask in them, in the glow in his heart, and wonder which of the Gods he had to thank for bestowing upon him such luck, such wonderful companions.

Sometimes these memories were not pleasant ones. They were of the many times he had almost lost the people he cared for. The times he had almost lost his partner. The duel with Pegasus, the shattering of the Puzzle, Marik’s twisted duel between Yugi and Joey, the Battle City Finals, and the potential for darker moments beyond them.

Many times, he opened doors in his wandering and discovered traps. Traps of doubt, of slick, oily, black tendrils of disfigured creatures, reaching for him, threatening to crush him – body, mind, and soul – until he became one of them, another tendril on the amorphous mass. Traps of fear, of a thousand buzzing insects, parasites that threatened to bore into his skull, convince him that all was hopeless, and drive him insane. Traps of despair, of pools of bubbling sludge, threatening to catch him like a fly, and drag him down slowly into the depths, into eternity, filling his lungs until even his screaming is drowned and silenced. The foul memories were the cause of them, and they were impossible to escape.

And one night, when Yami encountered so many traps he couldn’t take it anymore, he ejected himself from the Puzzle with such force that he feared he’d torn himself from it altogether.

It was night, late. Yami stood in Yugi’s room, incorporeal, invisible to all but his partner. _Partner…_

He turned to look at Yugi. He was asleep, soundly. The spirit smiled, then it faltered. He quickly looked elsewhere.

On Yugi’s desk sat an open notebook, the one he used for school. Yami drifted across the room, leaning over to read it, and smiled. Half a conversation was transcribed on the page, Yugi’s half, because he couldn’t talk to the Pharaoh out loud in school. He skimmed down the page, reading all their conversations of the previous day.

_I don’t know_ , read one answer. _We haven’t studied that yet. I’ll make sure to let you know!_

_Yeah, it’s pretty cool! ^_^_ read a second.

_It would be more fun if this class wasn’t such a drag_ , complained another. The word “drag” was underlined several times.

_I’ll ask Téa for you, she’s better at it than me._

_She said it’s seventeen._

_Me neither._

_I can if you want, but I don’t think the teachers would like it. :s_

The writing got squished the lower it got on the page, until there was nothing left but academic notes. Yami wished he could turn the page.

His spiritual form did not let him interact with physical objects, not entirely. Yugi described his ghost has having a hard outline with an empty middle. _Push too hard and I go right through you!_ he had said. Yami agreed, but he had since noted that he couldn’t interact with anything else but Yugi. And even then, it was a minimal pressure that could be broken if exerted too far. Suited only for gentle touches, just barely.

He pursed his lips and tore himself away from the notebook and to the Duel Monsters cards sitting on Yugi’s desk. They were splayed out in ways that would seem random to any other observer, but in reality, they had been discussing their deck before Yugi went to sleep, coming up with new strategies, improving old ones, discarding old monsters, and making themselves stronger. The spirit’s ghostly fingers rested on the Dark Magician. He sighed through his nose and glanced back at the sleeping Yugi. A sharp pang struck his chest – or lack thereof. _We’re going to need all the strength we can get_.

Again, the Pharaoh looked away. At something else, _anything_ else. He glanced out the window, at the lights, the sky, the moon perfectly suspended overhead. It was beautiful, and in any other case it would help settle his mind. But this time, it made him feel sick. If a spirit could even _become_ sick. It was too beautiful for his current state. He couldn’t stand it. Not when darkness shrouded him. Not when evil surrounded him at every turn. Surrounded _them_.

Needless to say, his wandering had not led him to answers that night.

Yami, feeling as heavy as a weightless being could ever feel, went to the foot of Yugi’s bed, and “sat,” hovering millimeters above the surface, and pulled his legs up to his chest. He glanced at Yugi to make sure he was still sleeping. The rise and fall of his chest was rhythmic and smooth. He lied still, save for his breathing. The spirit wondered if he was dreaming. He rested his arms on his knees and hung his head in the gap.

Yami almost _wanted_ him to wake up, to have an excuse to voice his fears aloud, but wouldn’t dare do it himself. Yugi wouldn’t hold it against him, he knew. If anything, his partner would be _happy_ to help the spirit sort himself out, but there was a part of Yami that always felt guilty about waking Yugi from his much-needed rest. There was a part of him that felt guilty about being with Yugi at all.

Perhaps it was better that Yugi was not awake. He wouldn’t allow Yami to think anything like that, much less believe it. But…

“I am sorry, Partner,” said Yami, for the sake of saying it, for all the times he would be too afraid to say it.

“Sorry for what?”

Yami whipped his head around at Yugi, letting his legs fall over the side of the bed. His partner was sitting up in bed, cradling the Millennium Puzzle in his lap from the chain hanging around his neck.

“I thought you were—” Yami started.

“Asleep?” Yugi interrupted. A smile flickered across his face, and he gestured to the Puzzle. “I was, but you needed my help.”

The spirit glanced down, a sad smile on his face. “I did not wish to wake you.”

Yugi scooted closer, his brow knitted in concern. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m here now, I want to help.”

“You always want to help.”

“What else is a partner for?”

Normally the moniker would have cheered up the Pharaoh. But not this time. He shook his head slowly. “This…I am not sure you can help me with this, Yugi,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t try,” he insisted. He moved to sit right next to the spirit, crossing his legs. The Millennium Puzzle sat in his lap, quietly shimmering in the moonlight filtering through the windows. His face grew serious, concerned. “I know whatever is bothering you is hurting you, Yami,” he said. The spirit glanced at Yugi out of the corner of his eye. “If you’re hurting, I want to help.” He clearly wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Yami sighed. He adjusted himself on the bed to he could face Yugi – so he could _force himself_ to face Yugi.

“I told you I was sorry,” he began. Yugi nodded, a reassurance he was listening. “And I am. I am sorry for…” he waved his hand in the air like he was brushing away a cobweb, “for dragging you into this mess. All this danger.” He opened his mouth to say more, but faltered, and fell silent.

“Yami, you didn’t drag me into _any_ of this,” Yugi insisted, pointing to the Puzzle in his lap. “I solved the Millennium Puzzle by myself.”

“Yes, I know,” said Yami. “But did you really think it would bring about all these dangers?” He gestured to himself. “Bring you _me_?”

“I don’t know what I expected, but it isn’t your fault, Yami.”

Yami raked his hands through his intangible hair. “I am the reason that cruel people are hunting you down, Yugi. They want _my_ power. You…” he stared at Yugi’s hands, at the Puzzle. “You do not deserve that. You have done nothing.”

“And neither have _you_ , Yami. These people are greedy, and it’s not your fault they’re after you. Besides, if I wanted to, I could have thrown the Puzzle out my window as soon as you showed up, but I didn’t.” He bumped his shoulder into Yami’s. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Yami smiled, but it was pained. “That is what I am afraid of.”

“Getting rid of me?”

“Losing you.”

Yami looked up and locked eyes with his partner. He needed to say something was impossible to say, something he hoped to communicate though eye contact alone. There was a desperate, primal fear attached to the thought of losing Yugi. There was no word for it, not in any language. It was powerful. It was _too_ powerful. It brought the Pharaoh to his knees. He knew he would part oceans, level mountains, tear the sky in two if anything were to separate him from his partner. And it terrified him.

He was not sure if Yugi understood what he meant, but he had locked eyes with the spirit, and had not looked away.

“These people will not stop, Yugi,” Yami continued, when Yugi remained silent. “Not until _we_ stop them.”

“Then we’ll stop them.”

Yugi looked so confident. So brave. So _sure_.

“Not without risking our lives,” Yami said. Yugi had not broken his gaze. “Not without risking _your_ life.”

Yugi finally looked away to glance down at the Puzzle. He took the chain from his neck and set the Millennium Item between them. “I’ve almost lost you, too.”

Yami looked at the Puzzle. “I know.”

“And I was terrified.”

“I know.”

“But look—" Yugi reached out for the Pharaoh’s hands and held them in his own, resting them on top of the Puzzle. “We’re both still here, right?”

Yami nodded, smiling. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

“Exactly,” said Yugi. He looked up from their hands, and Yami did the same. They locked eyes again. “So that means no matter how close we come to being separated for good, we’ll always find a way back together. Okay?”

The Pharaoh opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to say what he was thinking. He wanted to express how much he cherished their friendship, his gratefulness, and his… affections? Was that the correct word? He was not sure.

A thousand things to say rushed through his mind, but none of them seemed appropriate. He took one ghostly hand from their pile on the Puzzle and held in the air, unsure of what he wanted to do with it.

Yugi looked at him with a gentle smile, his violet eyes showing his confusion and amusement with the spirit’s indecision. And something else, as well. Like he was daring him, _inviting_ him, to do… something. Urging him along a path, toward a certain action. But Yami did not know what it was.

In the end, the spirit dropped his hand back onto Yugi’s and laughed softly. Something in Yugi’s eyes flickered – disappointment? – but it was replaced with kindness just as quickly.

“Thank you, Yugi,” Yami finally said. “I could not ask for a better partner.”

Yugi’s smile grew. “Neither could I.”

He slipped his hands out of Yami’s, took the chain of the Puzzle, and returned it to his neck. The spirit’s hands lingered on where the Puzzle had once been for several moments, then he drew them back into his lap.

“You should return to sleep,” Yami said. Yugi yawned in response, nodding. The Pharaoh chuckled. “Goodnight, Yugi.”

“Goodnight, Yami.”

Yugi settled back down under his blankets and rolled onto his side, protectively curling around the Millennium Puzzle. The Pharaoh’s chest flared with warmth.

With that, Yami let himself fade from the material world. He saw the world grow darker and darker, the colors fade, and shapes lose form—

And then he was back in his labyrinth. Again, doomed to wander his own mind for countless hours. But somehow, he was alright with it.

Sharing his mind with Yugi had taught him many things, but the most important of which Yugi reminded him of every day, trampling all his fears. If he was destined to wander, seeking questions that might not hold answers, he knew he would never have to do it alone.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr as livingthedragonlife or on my writeblr as ink-flavored! any comments and feedback are appreciated! <3


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